Cerise-Red Riding Hood
by Paradox.bookjunkie
Summary: A story resembling Red Riding Hood. Please Read!
1. Chapter 1

The sky was in that in-between phase in which you can't tell whether it was purple or black, where they both faded into one, mysterious blanket. The stars danced icily above the small stretch of country that squeezed itself between two great cities that threatened to close in upon it from all sides. Soon, the small bit would have no air to breathe, and finally give leeway to the magnificent weight of their pressure, bowing down to be used as a stepping stone for a smoke and metal revolution. When, though, these events would happen, was for fate to decide.

Right now, a small girl, her dark hair, which was impossible to place the colour in this light, bound into two braided pigtails, wound herself around a giant oak tree, her thin arms trying to stretch around the massive thing.

When she had no luck, she skipped on, her small dress swaying with the slight cool summer breeze, a relief after the heat of the day. She loved the world at this time of day. Most young people her age hated the dark, as it turned bright and cheerful things dark and ominous, for dark things ride in the company of the night. Her fingers, the shadows that creep in the day, come alive during the night, creeping and crawling of their own accord. Her voice, silenced to small whispers of wind during the day, escaped the strange crackling of things unknown.

The girl, though, paid no attention to these things. She went along, humming quietly to herself. She didn't spook and the strange noises and the thought of things unmentionable. She found beauty in the eerie song of the night bird, dwelling in the way the full moon sparkled on the top of the water, as she made her way down the path that led to her grandmother's house.

She had always followed the path religiously, even if she didn't understand the villagers' concern about her making her trip through the forest. She was always told to stay on the path, especially at night. She always wondered why, but never voiced her questions.

But the girl, even if she was young, wasn't blind, or deaf. She saw the way the villagers looked at her. Looks of pity and concern. she was convinced that one day, one day she would find out what was so wrong about the path.

The little girl, entering a little cobblestone yard with a small, cozy cottage beyond, buried in the woods, looked back at the dirt path.

Yes, she would find out, but she wouldn't do it by asking. She'd find out by doing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! Another installment! Yay! Thanks to Chiara246 for reviewing! **

**Hope y'all like!**

**Feel free to comment critique or ask questions!**

The little girl made her way through the tall, swaying grass to the small, quaint cottage. Walking towards the door, still on the dirt path, her foot hit something. Falling to the ground, she felt a stab of pain in her ankle. She reached carefully through the darkness, as now it was so dark she couldn't see two inches in front of her, and grasped her ankle gently. It was sprained, but definitely not broken.

She stood up slowly, brushing herself off. As she stood she tried to concentrate on things other than the shooting pain in her ankle. The night birds' song that she had been marveling in only moments before had been silenced. She stopped moving. The only sound now was the faint _swish_ of the grass as it swayed back and forth over the bare skin of her legs. She looked around the dark yard, which didn't really help her much, as everything, except that which was illuminated by the faint, cozy light coming from the cabin, was shrouded in shadow. It was impossible to tell one shape from another.

Suddenly, she heard a rustling in the trees behind her, her frenzied, and very human, body's instincts jolted her, and she flew the rest of the way up the path, pain in her ankle forgotten, panic freezing nerve's connection to her brain. She stopped at the door to the cabin, which now seemed almost deceivingly cozy and warm. She looked once more over her shoulder, panting, and, as she wiped her palms slowly on her dress, she opened the door to the cabin and walked in.

"Cerise!" Inside, sitting at a small, wooden table sat a woman. Her bent hands held a bowl of green beans. She cracked them, one by one, with skill and speed. She had a gentle, kind face, and white streaked gray hair pulled into a bun at her nape. Her face split into a beaming smile at the young Cerise. "Hello, grandmother!" Cerise lent over the old woman's lap and kissed her sweetly on her cheek, feeling beneath her lips the skin wrinkled with many decades of smiling and laughing. The woman pulled back and looked at her granddaughter concernedly, saying, "You look tired, dear. Come on." Cerise confided in her, telling her of her fall, tactfully leaving out the incident outside.

Her grandmother led Cerise to her bedroom and tucked her in. Kissing her gently goodnight, she left, blowing out a candle beside Cerise's bed. As hard as she tried, Cerise couldn`t shake the feeling that she had been being watched when she tripped. Her ankle would heal in time, but that memory stayed with her for quite a while. Six or seven years to be exact.

Sunlight filtered through the branches of the tree outside Cerise's window. It created a slight dappling effect on the light summer quilt on her small, single bed that was one of the only things that adorned the small room. Her eyes slightly opened, then closed quickly, as if wishing they had never opened. She curled into her blankets yawning. She stretched and blinked sleepily into the bright sun.

Ten minutes later, she came skipping out of her room. She bounded into the kitchen, only to come to a screeching stop, which failed quite magnificently, as she went crashing to the floor like a newborn foal, tangled in her awkward, long legs. Her grandmother was sitting at the table with a young man.

He had black, silvery hair that curled around his temples and pale, milky skin. He turned to look at her, piercing her through with stony gray eyes. His face was young, angled and harsh. He looked as if even the warmest of smiles wouldn't brighten his eyes or give relief to the sharp edges of his face. He stared at her, along with her grandmother, who, for some reason also looked as if her day was a bit cloudier than Cerise's, even this early in the morning.

Cerise's laughter died away, as she noticed how the two were looking at her. She popped up to her feet and leaned over to her grandmother, pecking her on the cheek. "Good morning, my lovely grandmother!" Her voice, which she had tried to make sound cheery, felt flat and fake to a tongue that usually never had to pretend to be that way. She felt the bent, withered hand reach up and pat her face absentmindedly. "Good morning, dear. Sweet one, I'd like you to meet Tyr. Tyr, this is Cerise."

The young man just looked at her and nodded, not saying anything. Cerise stared back, a cold feeling crawling slowly up her back as his gray eyes penetrated her, seeing right through her. He got up, nodded to her grandmother, and started towards the door. Her grandmother stood up as quickly as her old, achy body would allow, and followed him slowly out the door. She whispered to him quietly, Cerise straining her ears to hear, with no luck. Her grandmother patted him gently on the shoulder. Without a word, he went out the door. Cerise looked hesitantly out the window, afraid he would see her, but he was gone.

**Please critique and review! It took me a stupidly LONG time to update. :*(**

**Sorry! **

**Tell me what ya'll think!**

**-Paradox**


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